The Sound of Silence
by GoldeneyedJohnnycake
Summary: With Soda, Steve, and Two-Bit fighting a war halfway across the globe, Darry and Pony realize just how much Vietnam has taken away. (This was more difficult to write. I apologize if it sounds OOC.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. I also don't own the rights to the Simon & Garfunkel song that I used for the title, it just happened to fit like a glove. Please don't sue me!_**

The house has been filled with silence since Soda, Steve, and Two-Bit left for Vietnam. Pony and I hardly talk at dinner, if you can call sitting on the couch with takeout while your eyes are glued to the TV screen 'dinner'. I don't. We can't tear our eyes away from the news until the national anthem plays. That's when we know to go to bed and not worry until morning. But I know we both still worry. I talk to Soda, even though he's halfway across the world and can't hear me, and I've seen the shoebox stuffed full with letters that Pony writes. I don't think he'll ever send them.

We've each withdrawn into our roles as a coping mechanism. My work consumes most of my time, as does Pony's full-time schedule as a student. They are fulfilling in their own ways, but ultimately, they are hollow victories. Without our family, there's nothing for us except the deafening silence of missing our loved ones. I'm just glad that neither of us will go. We'll be here when they get back. At first, I was worried that Pony would be drafted, but the recruiting officer I spoke to said that college attendance exempts him for a little while at least. I hope the war will be over by the time he graduates. He wouldn't be able to handle the cruel reality of being forced to kill people for politics.

Pony and I haven't grown close at all over this. It seems to me like he's pulling away, like he did five years ago. I guess I haven't been helping much, since all I can do is worry about Soda. He spends a lot of his off time in the cemetery where Johnny and Dally are buried. If it helps him stay away from anti-war demonstrations and drugs, I'm all for it, but I should worry about him more. I just don't because he's home every night. I wonder what he thinks about all this, and what he confesses to the gravestones. Maybe the dead are better listeners than the living.

The downside to watching the news so often is the coverage of the anti-war demonstrations. I agree with their sentiment about the war- I don't think anyone truly wants to fight; it's just something that has to be done. My problem is with the way these kids protest. They make life difficult for everyone else just so you can hear their point. I don't know how many more chants I can take. "One, two, three, four, we don't want your fucking war!" will only get you so far with your congressman. Of course I was as shocked as anyone else at Kent State, but I thought that something like that would happen eventually. Apparently those kids can't figure out how to properly petition a government official.

At least the news actually covers the war and doesn't just spew propaganda like in the past. I've heard that the footage is in color, which would be nice to see, if those color sets weren't so damn expensive. Our little black and white set has lasted for a good long while, but I'd give anything to see the war in color. There's just something about colorized film that brings it closer to home. It makes everything more real, I think. I'd love to see what Soda sees, but it might make me miss him more. Pony says that Cathy's family has a color set, and that's what happens when he sees the footage how it's meant to be seen. I don't think I want to miss any of them more than I already do. It would kill me.

So we sit in silence, and wait for news. News that cycles like a tumble dryer at a laundromat, news screamed from front-page headlines, or news that arrives with a black suit, a little piece of paper, and condolences. It really doesn't matter, since no news is good news. I just want my brother and our friends back. I pray every day that they won't come home in a body bag, but that's always in the back of my mind. I have to be prepared for every possibility, but I hope to God that they all come back alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. I also don't own the rights to the Simon & Garfunkel song that I used for the title, it just happened to fit like a glove. Please don't sue me!_**

"I'm going out for a while, Darry." I called, not caring if he heard me or not. He was enraptured with the news, and his coffee had long gone cold. He hadn't heard me. I slipped out the door and into the truck anyway. He wouldn't mind as long as I filled the tank on my way home. On the way to the cemetery, I picked up some flowers. I knew that Dally would hate them if he were still alive, but since he was dead, he had no say in what I did. Besides, it was the least I could do for him and Johnny.

The gravestones looked worn. We'd been having a lot of rain lately, and it'd taken a toll on them. "When I really make some bread, I'll get y'all some new ones. I brought y'all flowers this time. They're kinda withered, but I don't think it'll matter too much." The heat was oppressive and the humidity didn't help, and I swore that I could feel the silence. "Well, Soda and them have been gone for a few months now. I miss 'em like crazy, but I've been okay mostly. Darry and I haven't talked a whole lot about it, but I can't seem to find the right words to say. Y'know what I mean?" Johnny knew. He would've said _Yeah, I know, but just hang tight. It'll be okay, and y'all will talk eventually. Just wait, and the words will find their way out. He loves you too much to shut you out forever._

Dally would've been frustrated. _Just grow a pair and talk to him already! He's your brother, for God's sake; it's not like he's a monster. Now, my old man-_

"This isn't about your old man, Dally! This is about Darry and me. Our relationship has been frazzled by this fucking war, and I wanna fix it."

 _Touchy, aren't we? Well, take my advice and talk to him. This isn't 1965, and you're definitely not 14 anymore, Pony. You can talk to him man-to-man now. He'd appreciate that._ I always made Dally sound nicer in my thoughts. Maybe it was my way of dealing with his abrasive personality.

"What should I do about Cathy, then? I mean, I really like her; I love her, actually. But I'm too scared to tell her."

 _Scared of what? Girls are easy to figure out. All you gotta do is be romantic and give them stuff and they'll give it up easy._

 _He's not talking about a one-night stand, Dally. This girl is the one. I think you should wait a while for that too. If you tell her to quick, you might not mean it, or it could scare her off._ Johnny always talked more too. He seemed to be a more level-headed person in my head than I was.

"That's true. Should I do little things for her? Do chicks notice that kind of stuff?"

 _They eat it up. I'm not sure why, but even if you hold her books for her, she'll dig you even more. Chicks are weird. You can't tell them how you actually feel most of the time. You have to do everything for them first._

 _I'd take Dally's advice on this one. Little actions matter. Are you sure you're okay with Soda being gone? You've been around here an awful lot lately._

"I'm not okay, but I can't tell that to anybody." A couple tears slid down my cheeks. "Nobody cares about what I'm going through, and I don't know how to make them care. I've been writing letters to Soda every night, but I know that I can't send them off. They're more like a journal, I guess. What really gets me is how quiet the house gets now. I didn't think I'd miss having Soda right there at night, but I'm going nuts without him. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night and I freak out when I can't find him. I know that sounds stupid, but I also expect to see Steve on our couch most nights."

 _That isn't stupid, Pony. You just miss 'em real bad. They'll be home before you know it, don't cry. You need to talk to Darry about this, otherwise it'll tear you up inside and you'll never get over it._

 _Take Johnnycake's advice on this one. People like you and Johnny take stuff real hard, and if I still know you, you can't handle it. Talk to Darry. He can help you more than we can._

"Why are you being so nice to me, Dally?"

 _Believe me, if I could, I'd deck you for bringing me flowers, you little punk. I just hate seeing you like this. Also, this is all in your head, kid. I'm nicer in your head because five years is a long time, and it softens your memories of people._

"I guess you're right. Maybe I should go see if Darry will talk to me."

 _Yeah, you should, and when you come back, report back to us about your girl._

"I will. Bye now, catch y'all on the flip side."

As I walked to the truck, I thought I heard a soft voice whisper _Stay gold, Pony._

"I will, Johnnycake. I will." I whispered back.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. I also don't own the rights to the Simon & Garfunkel song that I used for the title, it just happened to fit like a glove. Please don't sue me!_**

"Did you fill up the truck, Pony?" I wondered over the din of the television.

"Yeah." He stood by the door, watching me.

"What's up?" I clicked the TV off.

"I wanna talk to you." He perched on the couch uncomfortably. "I don't get why we're doing this to each other. I mean, we're both going through losing Soda, Two-Bit, and Steve, and the least we can do is talk to each other." He kept fiddling with his hands, not looking at me anymore.

"What do you wanna say?" I sipped my coffee, trying to hide the disgust on my face. It was too cold to enjoy.

"I dunno, I guess I just wanted to tell you that I really miss them. This is harder than I thought."

"Didn't think you'd make it this far, huh?" I leaned toward him, stretching. My back hurt.

"Not really. I thought I'd chicken out, or something. But I do miss 'em. Sometimes I wake up at night and wonder why Soda isn't there." He relaxed too, but only a little bit.

"I did a double-take when I went to get water last night. I thought I saw Steve sleeping on the couch." I laughed, it was pretty funny in hindsight.

"You did that too? I thought I was the only one!"

"So did I. I guess we aren't too different then."

"I hope they come home soon. I don't want 'em to die over there."

"Neither do I. Got anything else on your mind while we're having group therapy?" I moved onto the couch with him.

"Cathy. I think I love her, but I don't know how to tell her." He blushed.

"Telling someone that you love them is one of the hardest things a person can do, Pony. Luckily for you, I think you're ready."

"Really?"

"Sure. You've been dating her for almost three years now, and you've always been real faithful to each other. She's a nice girl, and I think you'd be perfect together." I honestly liked Cathy Carlson. She was much sweeter than any girl around our neighborhood, and she had a great family. Lots of siblings; yeah, she'd be perfect for him.

"How should I tell her?"

"Make it special. Take her out to dinner and a movie, or something, and after that, just ease into it. No need to shoehorn it into a conversation. That comes off as creepy and desperate. It isn't like you're proposing to her yet. Who knows? She may feel the same way about you."

"Okay. Darry, could I ask you one more thing?"

"Don't you mean two more things?"

"I thought that was implied." That got him smiling, and I realized that I hadn't seen him smile since Soda and the others left. He had a nice smile, no wonder Cathy liked him.

"Go ahead."

"Is it weird to talk to Johnny and Dally? I've been doing that off and on since the guys left, and I thought it was strange."

"I've been talking to Soda lately, so I guess it isn't that weird, unless we're both insane. It happens when you miss someone. I used to ask Mom and Dad for advice all the time, so I think it's only natural to do that. Can I ask you a question?"

"I don't know, can you?" He grinned cheekily.

"I thought that was implied. You think you could smile more often? I like it when you smile."

"Maybe we should start visiting Two-Bit's mom. She'd have us both smiling in no time flat."

"We could ask her for advice too. That way, we wouldn't have to keep to ourselves so much."

"I like that idea. Darry?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." With that, Pony left to do homework, or something, and I was left with my cold coffee. That wasn't about to spoil my good mood, however, and I reheated it on the stove before returning to the endless news loop. I really wish we had a color TV set.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. I also don't own the rights to the Simon & Garfunkel song that I used for the title, it just happened to fit like a glove. Last but not least, I don't own the rights to _****Acquainted With the Night** ** _. Please don't sue me! I apologize for the formatting in this chapter, my computer was being finicky. Let me know if you'd like me to continue this story any further._**

I woke up early on Friday morning. _Today's the day._ I thought, _Today, I'll tell Cathy that I love her._ Darry was right, I needed to make it special. I decided to ask her out to dinner after my classes let out. There weren't any good movies playing, and I didn't feel like sitting through any more dramas or war flicks. They hit too close to home these days. I combed my hair back after rooting around the closet for something to wear. I'd found one of Soda's old shirts that happened to match my eyes. "Green's a good color any way I wear it." I mused, surveying myself in the cracked mirror. "I hope you don't mind too much, Soda. I'll wash it before I return it, I promise."

Breakfast was chocolate cake and coffee. No eggs today. We needed to go shopping. I dumped hot chocolate mix into my coffee. Some kid in my creative writing class said that soldiers do that to make it taste better. I wouldn't know about the soldiers, but the chocolate certainly cut through the bitterness. I cut Darry a slice of cake and poured him some coffee when he padded to the table. "Thanks, kiddo," was all he said.

"Welcome. Hey, I gotta run, so I'll see you later." I breezed out the door and soon found myself on campus. I don't remember how I got there; muscle memory is funny sometimes. As I walked out of math class, I saw Cathy standing in the corner of the hall. _Now's my chance!_ I steeled my nerves, shifted my book-bag onto my shoulder, and promptly became a stuttering mess. "H-hey, Cath. How's it going?"

"It's groovy. Is something wrong, Pony? You look a little pale."

"No, um, I'm alright. Hey, d'you wanna go out tonight? I have a pretty light homework load, so we could go to dinner, if you wanted."

"Sure. Where would you like to go?" Her slight smile only hinted at her dimples. Man, I dug her smile.

"There's this little Chinese restaurant called Lotus Garden that my brothers and I really dig. I'll pick you up at 6.30, okay?" I wiped my hands on my slacks. I was getting better at this.

"Sounds great. I'll be there with bells on! Hey, maybe you should lay off the coffee, Pony. I think it's starting to affect your nerves."

"I'll switch to decaf next time. See you tonight, Cath."

"Groovy, baby. Bye." She waved before melding into the crowds of students. Since I'd finished for the day, I went home to think up a plan of attack.

"And then I got nervous. I think she noticed."

"Chicks always notice stuff like that. What'd she say?" Darry asked.

"She told me to lay off the coffee."

"I meant about the date, but that's a good idea. It certainly isn't doing you any favors."

"Oh, she said she'd love to go. We're going to Lotus Garden after I pick her up at 6.30."

"Good. Just be normal, okay? Chill out for a while before you get ready, it'll settle your nerves a little bit. That's a nice shirt, by the way."

"It's one of Soda's. I didn't think he'd mind."

"I don't think so either."

I was a nervous wreck as I drove to pick Cathy up. No amount of aftershave I wore could make up for the fact that my insides were in knots. I knocked on the door, only to be greeted by Mrs. Carlson. "Hello, Pony. Cathy will be out in a few minutes, why don't you come in and make yourself at home?"

"Thanks, Mrs. Carlson. How's M&M doing?"

"This week has been rough. He's been spending a lot of time at the library lately, which keeps him out of trouble, but I'm worried about him. He's too quiet."

"Hopefully next week will be better. Libraries always improve my mood, maybe he's the same way." Cathy emerged then, radiant as ever, grinning from ear to ear.

"Ready to go, Pony, or has my mom talked your ear off already?"

"She isn't that bad, you should see Two-Bit's mom. She'd have both your ears talked off before you even stepped over the threshold. Bye, Mrs. Carlson, we'll be back by 10, at the latest."

"I'm not worried. Go have fun, you two."

Lotus Garden was strangely empty for a Friday night, and aside from a couple of families and the occasional group of friends, we were the only ones there. "It's usually busier than this, there must be a game, or something." I said, as a waiter handed us our menus.

"I think there's a football game over at Will Rogers tonight. I don't know who they're playing, though. I'm not a huge sports fan." Cathy replied, scanning the menu. "Should I order the most expensive thing, or are we on a budget?"

"Order whatever you want, we like just about everything here. I really liked track and field, but Darry's the football nut in our house."

Once we'd placed our orders, we talked for a while longer, and I just couldn't get over how beautiful she looked. The wine colored sweater she wore made her skin glow, and her hair cascaded around her shoulders like a shadowy waterfall. The candles lit up her eyes too, and I almost lost my train of thought a few times. They were like grey rain in autumn- light and soft; a little sad. Our food arrived quicker than normal, since it was a slow night, and it offered a much needed distraction for both of us.

We didn't have to be back until 10, so I thought we'd go for a spin after dinner. "I wanna show you how the sky really looks at night, Cath. You'll love it, trust me."

"I don't think you'll ever know how much you amuse me, Pony. Every time I turn around, you show a new facet of yourself that I've never seen. It's honestly fascinating." Cathy steadied the leftover boxes as we bumped along a dark country road. "Are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Yeah, crazy."

"You can't go someplace you already are, Pony."

"Says you, Cath. I don't follow the rules of logic because I make my own. Anyway, here we are; grab that blanket from the back, would you? I don't want you getting cold."

We sat on the hood of the car, surrounded by the country. The black ribbon of road melted away, and we were left in a field of stars that shone like an infinite number of tiny diamonds. The moon was only a sliver of her former glory, burned orange for the harvest. "It's so beautiful, I could cry." Cathy whispered.

"Now you've become acquainted with the night."

"What?"

 _I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain- and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed the watchman on his beat and dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet when far away an interrupted cry came over houses from another street. But not to call me back or say good-bye; and further still at an unearthly height, one luminary clock against the sky proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. I have been one acquainted with the night._

"Who wrote that?" Cathy picked at a frayed edge of the blanket.

"Robert Frost. He's my favorite poet; he always knows the perfect way to encapsulate everything I've ever felt. Even after all these years, I can quote his poetry backwards and forwards." I laughed softly, unwilling to disturb the stillness.

"That's one of the things I love about you."

"Wanna know what I love about you?"

"Sure."

"Absolutely everything. I love you, Cathy Carlson, and I know it's taken me a ridiculously long time to say it, but I hope it still means something."

"It means the world to me, Pony." Even in the darkness, I could tell she was smiling.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. I also don't own the rights to the Simon & Garfunkel song that I used for the title, it just happened to fit like a glove. Please don't sue me! Thank you so much for all the reviews, I love getting feedback from my readers! _**

Hey, y'all,

We're all okay here. It's kinda quiet right now, so I thought I'd sit down and try to write you guys. I can't say an awful lot, seeing as how we're fighting a war and stuff, but I can tell you that we're just fine. I miss you two something terible, and Two-Bit and Steve do too. I guess Kathy dumped Two-Bit, he's been real quiet lately, and kinda moping around. Steve read the letter so he wouldn't pin it on me, but it looks like the only ones who'll be wanting to talk to him is his mom and sister. Their letters are always so funny.

My unit is pretty rowdy, and someone's always getting in trouble for something. Jack is the guy who shares our hut, and he's always trying to get a Section-8. I guess the humidity and heat is really bugging him. He's from Wyoming, so he isn't used to it. Sorry about the messy ink, the paper is thin, and it's a hundred percent humidity out here. I was kinda surprised that the pen still worked. Maybe next time it won't, it's a cheap Bic knockoff that I got in Huế. I got a pack of Lucky Strikes the other day in my ration, but it was too wet to smoke. I'm gonna save them for later, maybe they'll dry out then.

Y'all wouldn't believe the kind of food the locals try to feed us. The other day, this little old lady came up with bowls of rice covered in a fish sauce or something. I don't know what it was, but it reeked. I think it was rancid, and there were fat little maggot things crawling all through it. I almost threw up, but somehow I kept it down. It tasted okay once you forgot about the wiggly critters. I don't think I want rice when we come home. We've had it so much, that I'm already sick of it. Besides, there's always something alive in there. I try to pick the critters out before I start eating, but sometimes I'm not careful enough. The only bright side is that it's extra protein, I guess.

One of my friends died last week. We tried to bury him, but it was too rainy, and we almost got sucked into the hole I dug. He was only 18. It's been raining nonstop lately- I don't think I've ever seen so much rain in all my life, and we live in Tulsa, which always seems to be stormy. I wish I had a camera to take some pictures of it for you two. Maybe I'll get one the next time I go to Huế, if I'm not living it up with Steve in brothels. I don't really like going in those places, but sometimes you just need relief, you know?

I guess I should let y'all go. Have a nice day at work, Darry, and don't study too hard, Pony. I'll write more when I get more paper. Maybe I'll trade my smokes for it.

Your brother in peace and war,

Sodapop Curtis

P.S. Do y'all think you could write more often? It gets lonely here, and the guys either laugh or feel sorry for me if I don't get mail. (Try to send some chocolate cake mix!)


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. I also don't own the rights to the Simon & Garfunkel song that I used for the title, it just happened to fit like a glove. Please don't sue me! I hope you are okay with the frequent POV switching, and that it hasn't confused you too badly. Let me know which thread of this story you'd like me to continue. I'm a little stuck, to be honest._**

In my last letter, I lied to them. I told my brothers that we were okay, and I made it sound like we were all together. Two-Bit and I are in the same unit, but Steve's off in Cambodia somewhere doing crazy shit. The first day we landed, the sticky heat sucker-punched us and I freaked out because I heard bombs going off. The guys have nicknamed me 'Nancy' because of that. On the bus ride over to P Training, I couldn't quit staring out the windows. The landscape was scarred and fried from bombing, and kids climbed all over the ruined buildings, playing. I guess they've adapted to the constant war. They were framed by the barbed wire on the windows, looking like some living art in a museum; Pony would know how to describe it better.

The day before we arrived, one of those buses was blown to bits. Those passengers were cracking jokes, watching scenery fly by, and thinking of home, just like we were, and then they died. Just like that. Dead at 18 in a coffin of burning rubber and shredded metal. I bet their parents miss them. Jack Delaney was assigned to my unit- 101st Airborne Division. I met him when he sat next to me on the bus. I can still hear his voice: _"How's it going, Nancy?"_ It's good, Jack, real good. I didn't mean to do it, honest. You just wouldn't quit screaming about your left arm and leg. I can't tell Darry or Pony that. Only Two-Bit knows. He helped me.

I've gotten used to the constant drum of machine-gun fire. You have to, even when you see your buddies getting cut down like blades of grass in a lawnmower. The only thing I haven't gotten used to is the ham and lima beans C-Rat. The guys told me another name for it, and I laugh every time someone gets it. I'm just glad I got it once, that's about more than I can take. I miss eating real food that isn't canned. Jack said that he always saved the peanut butter. He digs it for a midnight snack. I save mine for him. I gunned down a couple of VC yesterday. They were watching us through the foliage, waiting to ambush us, and I shot them. I was so proud, I hadn't killed any since FSB Ripcord. I'm getting tired of looking around every tree and below every leaf for the enemy. I wish this war was over.

The rain is almost as regular as machine-guns and bombs, and it soaks everything, even if you're in the hooch. Jack said it was enough to drive anyone crazy. _"That's why they should Section-8 me, Nancy. I'm crazy 'cuz of the rain."_ You weren't crazy, Jack. You just yelled like crazy, and you had to stay quiet, or they'd hear you. That's why we shut you up, and I'm sorry that we had to. It didn't help that there was mud in your lungs, Jack. That had to be painful. No wonder you kept screaming and gurgling. Damn this rain. It's never quiet here.

I hope I get wounded bad enough to go home. I've only been here for four months, give or take, and already I want to go home worse than I've ever wanted anything in the world. It's a shame that I can't talk to Steve, he'd know what to say. Two-Bit can talk himself out of a burning paper bag, but he can't make me feel better about killing people. He's too good at it. He could kill people in his sleep if he wanted to- I've seen him do it.

In the mean time, I'll just keep writing Darry and Pony letters. It doesn't matter that I don't hear anything back, I know they read everything I write. They're probably busy anyway, and they don't know where to send their letters. Two-Bit's are smuggled in and out by a friend, I think. I just hope they can send me some chocolate cake mix. That way, the chaos of Vietnam will start to feel like home.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. I also don't own the rights to the Simon & Garfunkel song that I used for the title, it just happened to fit like a glove. Please don't sue me! Sorry for the lack of updates. My dog died last week, and I haven't felt much like writing. I think this might be the last chapter, but feel free to ask me to continue the story if you'd like more loose ends tied up._**

Five years. Five long, grueling years was how long it took for the phone to ring. I answered it, cussing under my breath. Whoever was calling woke me from a dead sleep just to talk. "Hello?" My voice was slurred with exhaustion, but that passed as soon as I heard who was on the other end.

"Hey, Darry. It's Soda, we're home."

"You're home?" I shook my head, hearing no cars out front.

"Well, we're in San Fran, but it sure won't take long to get to Tulsa. Two-Bit said we should be there tomorrow, at the latest."

"Is it just the two of you?" My throat was tight with unexpressed emotion.

"No, Steve's here too. He's catching some Zs. It's been a long time coming."

"It certainly has. How're y'all holding up? It looks pretty crazy over there." I said, switching the radio on.

"It hasn't been too bad, except there's lots of protesters outside. I don't think I've ever been called a baby-killer so much in my life. Is Pony there?"

"Not yet, he'll be back later today. He left for school a little while ago." That 'little while' was four hours ago, to be exact. He was probably with Cathy in the cemetery.

"Oh, okay. Well, tell him the news when you see him, would you?"

"Yeah, I'll do that. Have a safe trip, Soda, and tell the guys I said 'hi'."

"I will. Get some sleep."

"I will. Catch you in a day or so."

"Bye."

I'd never been so happy to hear Soda's voice in all my life. I could picture him on the other end smiling like he always had, kitted out in olive drab, with bleached gold hair and a nice tan. Yeah, it'd be good to see him again. I shuffled out of bed to make some coffee, and found Cathy and Pony in the kitchen playing _Sorry!_ halfheartedly. They put the game away and made room at the table for me. "Who was on the phone?" Pony asked.

"Guess."

"Um, President Ford?"

"Nope. Try again."

"Was it Two-Bit's mom?"

"Did you hear any laughter?"

"No. It couldn't have been Johnny Carson, then, either. I give up, who was it?"

"Soda, Steve, and Two-Bit are home." I couldn't keep the grin off my face, and I shoved my coffee into Cathy's hands before being tackled in a bear hug.

"It won't be quiet anymore." Pony whispered. I could feel his tears soak into my shirt.

They arrived pretty late that night, but we stayed up anyway to greet them. The soft rumble of an engine and jingling keys snapped us out of the dazed waiting. "You've started locking the door." Soda said, stuffing the keys back into his pocket. Pony ambushed him with a hug, but I stayed back. He was too thin. He had muscles, of course, but his army jacket hung in loose folds like a tent around his bony frame. He was a Staff Sergeant, according to the insignias in the sleeve. His face, though tanned, looked slightly jaundiced, as though he'd been sick, and he was shaking. His eyes were, by far, the most uncanny thing about him. He couldn't settle his gaze on any one thing- his eyes flitted from corner to corner, analyzing every shadow, unable to calm down. He was on high alert, and I knew it.

"Yeah, this neighborhood just keeps getting worse and worse. I took to locking it while y'all were gone, since I don't really feel like getting murdered anytime soon. Welcome home, Pepsi-Cola." I said.

"Thanks." He looked about to fall over, and we sat him on the couch.

"You want anything, Soda? You look hungry."

"Anything but rice. D'you have any beer?"

"Yeah, I'll get one for you." It wasn't like him to drink, and Pony shot me a concerned look as I got up. "It's fine, he's just tired." I whispered as I passed him. He nodded, but I could tell he didn't believe me.

We ate leftover meatloaf for a late dinner, and as we ate, I noticed that Soda truly had changed. He was taciturn, almost silent, and he just focused on the food. We didn't talk much, and Pony went to bed after he'd finished eating. He looked like he was gonna cry, poor kid. I watched Soda hunch over his food, as though he thought someone would steal it, and shovel forkfuls into his mouth. The beer had calmed him down a little, and he lit a Pall Mall once he settled on the couch again.

"Why did you take up drinking, Soda?"

"It helps with everything." He replied, dragging on the cigarette.

"Just please don't do it in front of the kid. He's already worried sick without you passing out drunk everywhere." I admonished.

"I'll try not to. D'you mind if I stay up for a while? I like watching the test pattern."

"Do whatever you want, I'm going to bed." I said, yawning. I don't think I realized then how much had really changed, but it was true. We'd all changed, along with the world, and there was nothing any of us could do about it. I was just relieved to have everyone home safely, and I slept better that night than I had in a long, long time.


	8. Epilogue

**A/N:** ** _S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. I also don't own the rights to the Simon & Garfunkel song that I used for the title, it just happened to fit like a glove. Please don't sue me! As requested, here is the epilogue. Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews, they've cheered me up a whole lot. If you would like more stories like this one, feel free to read my older ones, if you haven't already. (I can't promise that they're all good, though.) They are fairly continuous, like the novels, and don't be afraid to send me story ideas and prompts if there's something you'd like to see fleshed out. (So many 'ifs', so little time.)_**

The 4th of July was just around the corner and people kept setting off bottle rockets, firecrackers, and Lord knows what else to celebrate. Unfortunately, fireworks and combat vets don't mix too well. "Is he still behind the couch?"

"Yeah, he keeps thinking he's in Cambodia. I swear I'm gonna rip the arms off the next guy who sets one of those things off. I'm sick of trying to calm Steve down. Is Soda there?" Two-Bit asked. He seemed to be the most well-adjusted out of the three of them.

"No, he and Pony went to the movies. They should be back any time now. I can come over there, if you want."

"No, that's okay, Darry, I should be able to wait it out till Soda comes back. How's he doing with all the noise?"

"He seems okay, but he's been getting up real early in the morning to watch the test pattern on TV. I can't figure him out."

"It calms him down. Taking showers calms me down, and I think Steve uses a needle for the same effect."

"I've heard that a couple other things calm you down too." I joked, remembering the first time I'd noticed that he frequented brothels.

"That's only when my check comes in." He laughed nervously, probably eyeing the general vicinity of the couch. "You okay, Steve?" A muffled response came back, but I didn't hear it. "Hey, I gotta let you go. Gimme a call when Soda shows up."

"Will do; try to stay sane in the mean time."

"I'll certainly try."

Soda and Pony returned from the movies in high spirits, which surprised me, since they'd gone to see _Jaws_. "How was the movie?"

"You need to go see it, it's amazing." Pony handed me a tub of leftover popcorn.

"It was pretty freaky. That director really did a great job- he should win awards for that one." Soda grinned, a rare occurrence nowadays.

"I hate to burst your happy little bubble, but Steve's going full psycho again, and Two-Bit can barely handle it."

"Fireworks are a bitch. I think we need to commit him on New Year's. I'll be back later, guys."

"Bye, Soda, don't let him bite you."

Pony hadn't said anything, he'd just watched Soda's retreating form with a sad expression in his eyes. "I hate how we've changed so much." He mumbled, flopping on the couch and lighting a cigarette.

"You can't keep people from changing, kiddo. It's like keeping the tide back with a broom." I sat next to him, setting the popcorn bucket on the coffee table. I'd grown to love our impromptu therapy sessions. It was nice to vent sometimes.

"I know, but I had this crazy idea that they'd be the same once they came home. Now, Soda hardly ever smiles and he drinks like a fish, Two-Bit's actually serious, and Steve's high as a kite most of the time. I just wish we could go back in time and keep them the way they were."

"Did you ever think that maybe those things you mentioned are how they cope with what they went through over there? War isn't easy, Pony, and maybe they're the same kids they always were deep down, but in order to keep that way they had to build up walls to keep the horror out. I use work that way, and you have your writing- we all have things that we use to make this world a little easier to live in. It's just human nature." I don't know when I became the fount of wisdom; maybe I should start charging for it.

"So, you think that the drinking, prostitutes, and drugs are all a form of therapy?"

"I wouldn't put it that way; it's more like self-medication. Has Soda had any nightmares lately?"

"I dunno, I've been over at Cathy's most nights since he came home. My guess would be if the TV is on at three in the morning, he probably has. We don't talk much anymore." He didn't look up from a scuff on his shoe.

"Not even on the way to and from the movie?"

"It was so silent that I swear I heard my blood running through my veins."

"Maybe it was the hum of the tires on the road."

"Nope, it was my blood. I'd bet my bottom dollar on it."

"That's probably why Johnny kept beating you at poker, kiddo."

"I keep putting dollar bills in the flowers, just in case he wants me to pay up. I'll get outta debt eventually." He offered a bittersweet smile.

"Knowing Johnny, he wouldn't take your money for anything in the world. He's probably getting his jollies just watching you do that."

"It makes the visits lighthearted. You should come sometime."

"I don't think I wanna intrude on whatever you've got going there. Besides, I do the same with Mom and Dad."

"You never told me that."

"It never came up till now. Maybe we should go over to Two-Bit's and help out."

"There's nothing we can do, Soda's coming back already."

As Soda shuffled into the house and squeezed in between us on the couch, I withdrew into my thoughts and watched. He'd laid his head on Pony's shoulder and was spacing out; all his energy had been spent with Steve and Two-Bit. Pony just held his limp hand, tracing gentle lines around his knuckles and wrist. I couldn't believe how calm the kid was and how well he'd dealt with the hand life dealt us. I knew we'd be okay then, even if no one else did. I never wanted to hear the deafening silence again, and as long as we stuck together, I knew I wouldn't.


End file.
